


A Taste of the Familiar

by highlytrainedfangirl



Series: Queer Avengers [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Remembers, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Reunion, almost, the apple pie returns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 20:18:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15202661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highlytrainedfangirl/pseuds/highlytrainedfangirl
Summary: Steve almost thought that he was hallucinating when, on one of his semi-regular visits, he caught sight of a familiar face amongst the crowd.Steve catches sight of Bucky at the Smithsonian and makes it his goal to reunite and help him recover. Bucky starts to remember things a little quicker than either of them expected.Can be read as a stand alone, but there's quite a few references to other parts of this series and you may want to read those first (they're not that long I swear)





	A Taste of the Familiar

Steve – with the help of Sam – had been able to track down Bucky. Sort Of. They knew that he was (thankfully) still in America, still in _New York_ , and Steve was terrified every single day that he was going to leave.

 

The first time Steve was able to confirm with his own two eyes that Bucky was, in fact, still there he had caught him in the Smithsonian. Looking at the Captain America exhibit. Steve almost thought that he was hallucinating when, on one of his semi-regular visits, he caught sight of a familiar face amongst the crowd. 

Unlike the last time Steve had seen him, Bucky appeared much healthier. His hair, though still long, was no longer greasy and tangled, and his expression seemed guarded rather than hollow. He was doing okay. He was doing okay, and Steve had to fight every part of him from marching across the room and clinging to Bucky like his life depended on it. 

Slowly, he eased his way through the sea of bodies, locking his eyes on Bucky, not daring to let the other man out of is sight for even a second. He tried to keep his movents calm, desperate to remain unnoticed for a just a few moments longer, but each second the crowd between the grew and it was getting harder to keep track of Bucky. As he finally reached the spot where Bucky stood he found the other man… gone. 

Steve stood alone at the centre of a small bubble in the crowd he had created. But now he could see the exhibit that Bucky had been looking at; staring back at him in black and white was Bucky’s own face. 

 

Steve returned to the Tower and – for lack of a better word - _moped_. 

Before leaving the museum, Steve had cornered one of the security guards he had seen there several times previously, giving a brief description of Bucky and asking if the guard had seen him there before. The guard told Steve that Bucky had, in fact, been there several times over at least the past few weeks. However, upon recognising Captain America the guard seemed to develop the wrong idea and started asking if she needed to tail him or call the police. It took Steve a good five minutes to convince her that Bucky was not a threat and to let him be the next time he came back. 

In his mind, Steve was already forming a plan for what he should do next time he found Bucky. He needed a way of approaching him without scaring him away. 

Steve shot a quick text to Sam, letting him know what happened, before sitting down and beginning to brainstorm. 

It wasn’t just matter of approaching Bucky, he also had to find a place where Bucky would be willing to meet with him. The Tower was an immediate ‘no’; even if by some miracle Bucky agreed to come, there wasn’t a chance in hell that he would be allowed in. Steve still hadn’t been able to secure his own apartment in Brooklyn (it was a lot harder than he had anticipated, especially as he was making a point of it being _his_ place and so was refusing any help from Tony or SHIELD) and even if he had, he still couldn’t have take Bucky there. Brining the winter Soldier back to his home would definitely not be a good idea, and even if he trusted Bucky he doubted Bucky would trust himself. 

When he eventually did settle on a solution Steve couldn’t help but feel that he had simultaneously made the best and worst decision. 

 

It took another two trips to the Smithsonian before he saw Bucky again. He caught him on the steps outside, going in just as Steve was leaving. This time he used the crowd to his advantage; he wove through the tide of bodies and carefully slipped a folded note into the pocket of Bucky’s hoodie undetected. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks (though it probably had more to do with training with Natasha). 

He waited until he was a safe distance away before catching Bucky’s eye, smiling softly, and gently tapping his own pocket. Then he disappeared back into the mass of bodies without checking to see if Bucky had looked. 

 

Steve nervously twirled a pencil between his fingers as he waited for Bucky to arrive. In the end he had written down the address of the café. It was a risk, it may be too public for Bucky, but the place was quiet and buried a forgotten corner of a mall – he was the only customer there. Plus, Steve was a regular and it was one of the few places he could go and be treated as a normal citizen. 

Trying to calm his nerves, Steve sketched out a drawing of the inside his and Bucky’s old apartment into a small notebook (a gift from Sam that he was supposed to use every time he felt anxious or stressed). The action was supposed to help distract and relax him, but each stroke he added only made him more tense. He thought his memory of the apartment was perfect, he could see it so clearly in his mind, but every time he tried so put it onto paper the shapes and edges in his mind suddenly blurred. No matter what he did he just couldn’t get the image in his mind into something he could draw. That chair wasn’t that close to the sink, but then where had it been? The table had been between the sink and the armchair, but then where did the lamp fit? 

How many times had he drawn that place? How many times had he sketched Bucky sleeping in that armchair or the sun streaming through the moth-eaten curtains? He could still do it. He had to still be able to do it…

Each pencil stroke grew darker and thicker and more frantic with every passing second until he was jarred from his thoughts by a cup slamming in front of his face. Startled, he looked up to see the smiling face of the waitress, Amelia, who had placed down his coffee and _two_ slices of apple pie (which she had raised an eyebrow at but thankfully hadn’t questioned). 

Apparently oblivious to his impending panic, Amelia began to excited gush over his drawing, “That’s amazing! The shading on the sink is so good, I can never get metal right, and it looks so _real_ –” She continued babbling and Steve tried to listen, but to everything she said all he could see was how _wrong_ the drawing looked. 

After her excitement calm down, she began talking about her own art project and Steve allowed himself to relax. He nodded along as she told him about the progress she had made since he had last been in and used her words to ground him and slow his racing heart. This was the distraction he needed. Especially while he tried to ignore the clock above the counter as it ticked past the time he had written on Bucky’s note.  
He did his best to make small talk for a few minutes before another customer came in and Amelia dashed over to their table. 

 

Almost fifteen minutes later, after the other customer had ordered, drunk their coffee, _and left_ , the door the café opened and Bunk slunk in. Steve tried not to jump at the sound and pretended not to notice how Bucky was twenty minutes late. He couldn’t believe that Bucky had come at all. 

As the other slowly took a seat opposite him, Steve gave a soft smile, “hey, Buck.” His voice was so small, he almost thought Bucky wouldn’t hear him. The other man nodded in response and he clearly tried for a small smile, but his face didn’t quite manage to complete the task. 

There was an awkward silence as neither knew what to say. Steve hadn’t really planned what would happen if Bucky showed, and Bucky had clearly been expecting Steve to be the one leading the conversation. He tried to look at Bucky when he spoke, but his eyes settled on the other man’s chest and refused to meet his eyes. 

“Didn’t think you’d come. I had to slip you the note ‘cause I figured you’d never take it if I tried to give it to you.” He pauses, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice. Glancing down at the table and realises both plates of pie have been sitting there completely untouched since he ordered them, but he can’t bring himself to move. “I thought this’d be an okay place to meet.”

The silence comes back to hover around them for a few minutes, until Steve realises there is no way that this conversation can progress until they address the elephant in the room. 

“How – How much do you remember?”

The question hangs between them. 

This time Steve does look up to Bucky’s eyes and finds them locked on his fists, which were tense and balled up in his lap. “Some. Not enough. The museum helped” Bucky doesn’t say much. Steve got the impression that the winter soldier didn’t talk much unless had to, and Bucky seemed to still be adjusting to his new freedom. Bucky slouched in his seat. Quietly, he mumbled, “I’m still not Bucky” 

Steve didn’t know how to respond. He knew that he couldn’t disagree, he had read the files on the Winter Soldier and couldn’t even begin to imagine the position Bucky must have been in at that moment. To stop himself doing anything stupid, like adding a ‘yet’ to the end of Bucky’s statement, Steve began to pick at his own slice of apple pie. 

Bucky regarded his own plate with suspicion, but after a brief moment of watching Steve eat, he seemed to deem it okay and he hesitantly took a bite. At the first forkful his face immediately scrunched up. 

Steve looked up to see Bucky glaring down at his pie with the fork hovering midway between his mouth and the plate. Before Steve could ask what was the matter, Bucky was speaking, “it’s wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” Steve wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting.

“It’s _wrong_.” He stabbed the pie with his fork for emphasis. “Too sweet. Pastry’s too thick.” Bucky’s words were spoken almost indignantly and yet his face seemed confused as to why he was even saying them. 

If Steve wasn’t just as confused he might have laughed. He always ate at that café because it served the closest thing to the apple pie that Steve’s mother used to bake he had ever tasted. But of course, Bucky – who had spent years practicing to perfectly replicate the recipe – would find fault with it. The only question was how Bucky knew that. Steve felt at least a little reassured that Bucky seemed to be asking himself the same question. 

He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to help Bucky or if he should let him figure things out on his own. In the end he settled for saying, “yeah, well, no one ever could make it like you and Mom.” 

Bucky nodded, as if in understanding, but the confusion did not entirely drop from his eyes. Despite it being ‘wrong’ Bucky continued to eat the pie in front of him, making occasional noises of dissatisfaction that Steve hoped the staff wouldn’t take to heart. 

Finishing his own piece, Steve spied his open notebook on the corner and quickly closed it, putting it into his jacket pocket before Bucky could look at the apartment drawing. It might not have made a difference, but Steve didn’t want to force Bucky into trying to remember too much too fast. He still wasn’t sure how best to go about it. 

Instead he let Bucky finish eating in silence, both of them puzzling things over. Steve didn’t try to stop Bucky when he slipped away with nothing more than a nod. For the time being, he forced himself to be contented with the knowledge that Bucky was alive and recovering, and hopefully they could do so together.

**Author's Note:**

> AN – looks like the café is becoming a regular part of the series. And yes, I am just calling it ‘the café’ because I can’t name things for shit.  
> Also, I know Steve not having an apartment doesn’t fit with TWS but in this ‘verse he still lives at the tower. He does still know Sharron though; she’s a SHIELD agent she’d have found some other way to monitor him.


End file.
